The Sound Of The Gun Going Off
by mandaree1
Summary: "The sound of Morgg's blaster will haunt me the rest of my life." Rome wasn't built in a day. Nor was Kevin's complete and utter hatred of The Null Void and Morgg (but mostly Morgg).


**Disclaimer: I don't own Ben 10, Ben 10 Alien Force, Ben 10 Ultimate Alien, Ben 10 Omniverse, or anything else by Man Of Action**

**Title: The Sound Of The Gun Going Off**

**Summary:**** "The sound of Morgg's blaster will haunt me the rest of my life." Rome wasn't built in a day. Nor was Kevin's complete and utter hatred of The Null Void and Morgg (but mostly Morgg).**

**Author's Note: First Kevin 'fic, ever. I tried to keep it to canon as much as possible, but it's hard sometimes. It's nuts, seriously. Kevin's past is only getting more and more messed up as seasons go by, and it's making it hard to write a sensible 'fic. =)**

**...**

Two things Kevin wishes would go away; the electricity buzzing hot under his skin and the biting cold.

One thing he wishes he could do something about; the mass amounts of killing intent keeping his blood boiling deep into the day. (Night? Day? There's no real difference around here. It all just sucks.)

He knew he would get caught. He's not stupid, no matter what he suspects his parents think (although that might be the energy talking. Kwarrel had warned him about this...), and he knew the moment that gun went off that he was screwed. Done. End of story.

Even still, seeing Morgg's disgusting smirk as he cuffed him made him wish that he could've undone all of Kwarrel's hard work and the progress he'd made and turn back into the monster form he'd inhabited mere weeks ago, to fall back under the spell of the energy running through his veins, to the comforting insanity that had been plaguing him, and gleefully rip him apart. But he can't. It wouldn't be right for him to spit on Kwarrel's memory like that. He's only human now, with a special collar that not only puts him under Morgg's growing control but also blocks out his powers, which _so_ isn't fair, because he's just learned how to use them properly, and he's definitely going to fall out of practice from all of this, and that sucks.

Whatever. He'll get them back once they realize that rock and metal works better as mining tools than flesh and bone. At least, if the rumors are true and the prison is being turned into an underground mine.

Rah. He hasn't even hit puberty yet and Kevin E. Levin is soon to be shipped off into an intergalactic sweat shop. Not just anyone could say that at his age.

Okay, he decided, shifting his numb legs, so he'd escaped. But that wasn't worth a month of isolation. Prisoners did that all the time. If anything, Morgg should be thanking him for being too big a coward to tell any of the guards what _really_ happened to Kwarrel.

_Kwarrel_. The back of his head falls against the metal wall of his cell. Kwarrel was the best guy (alien? Monster? Whatever he was...) Kevin had ever met. He shouldn't have gone down that way. He shouldn't have gone down at all.

The electricity in his veins sparked dangerously, but he didn't give in. Kwarrel had said that the energy was bad, and he hadn't been wrong yet, so Kevin believed him.

_"Don't give in, and it'll go away. It can't stay in one body forever, you got me?"_

Well, one could hope.

"Hey, kid?" A tentative knock sounded on the front door of his isolation chamber. "It's me, Quince."

"I guessed as much." Who else would come knocking on his door when it was against the rules? He stood up and walked to the front of the chamber. "What's up?"

"Total pandemonium, that's what's up." A pause. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah, just cold." He shivered despite himself. "My body isn't really made for these kinds of temps, and my collar won't let me turn into metal or anything." Not that being made of metal made him warmer, or anything, but it's the principle.

Quince swore under his breath. "Alright, now don't you worry, okay? I brought ya' a blanket and some food."

It was the thinnest blanket to ever wrap itself around Kevin's shoulders (and coming from a homeless kid, that's saying something), and the food looked and tasted reminiscent of a rock, but he wasn't complaining.

"There ya' go. I know they've been 'forgettin' to feed ya'. I think they're forgettin' how often humanoid creatures like you need food."

Kevin shrugged even though Quince couldn't see it. He was_ above_ whining like a little punk, thank you very much. "Is it just me, or did the food here get worse?" He said after swallowing a bite.

"The food got worse." He replied, deadpan. "All our money's been goin' towards mining equipment. Nothing else matters."

"Right under the warden's nose?"

Quince shrugged. "The guy isn't the smartest lad to walk the face of the Null Void, I'll give 'em that."

Smarts didn't exactly thrive in places like the Null Void. Kevin was beginning to understand that. "That's pretty messed up."

"It's the Null Void, kid. Everything's messed up." Another pause, this one more tentative. "Hey, is it true? Is Kwarrel really..."

"Dead?" He didn't have to be able to see him to know he was nodding. "Yeah." His fists clenched. "It was that guard, you hear me? Kwarrel didn't do nothin'. He was tryin' to protect me."

"Oh, man." Quince withered against the metal door. "That's messed up."

"I hate 'em, Quince. I want him dead."

"Yeah? You're gonna have to wait awhile, kid. It'd be suicide to attack him now."

Kevin had no qualms against going on a suicide-revenge mission, but he doesn't say as much.

"He'll die someday, kid. Everybody does. You just gotta wait awhile. After he does, we can go mess up his burial spot or somethin'. That's the best we can do without goin' against what Kwarrel woulda wanted."

The energy in his blood cooled a little, but not completely. Right. This wasn't about him. This was about Kwarrel, and Kwarrel would never condone them killing someone in his honor. He was a nice guy like that.

"Anyway, kid, I gotta go before a guard sees me outta my cell. You be safe." He heard Quince stand and walk away, footsteps echoing on the metal floor.

Alone again. Kevin couldn't help but wonder if there was some deity or something up there, trying to drive it into his skull that he would spend his life alone.

Well, thanks, nameless deity. Kevin got the message, so could you _go away_ now, please? Y'know, like everyone else...

* * *

Being the only humanoid alien in the Null Void had its perks. It also had a ton of downsides.

Kevin didn't have to eat what the others ate, and he got to eat more often than some of the other prisoners, but the food was stale or raw at best, usually only just nutritious enough to keep him alive. He didn't have to work the same amount of hours as some of the other prisoners, true, but he had to work harder than everyone else to make up for it.

He expected no less. The Null Void wasn't made to be fair, it was made to give you scars and scare you into submission. And, well, Kevin had scars, but...

"I'm not scared."

Quince glanced up from his meal (a yellowish soup of Kevin-didn't-want-to-know) and shook his head. "Well, you should be. He could crush you with his little toe, kid."

"I don't care. I could take him, easy."

"No you couldn't. Stop bein' an idiot and eat your food."

Oh, yeah, because he was just dying to dig into the mushy slop they'd given him, right? Kevin would rather be beaten black and blue and left in isolation than try and stomach anymore of that crap. "I swear, he comes by and and tries to take your food one more time, I'll-"

"You'll what?"

Kevin set his plate down (which was more or less a metal trash can lid, mold and all) and stood up, absorbing the metal on the way. He turned around. The Vulkanus knock-off (Kevin had actually yet to meet Vulkanus face-to-face at this point and deal/double-cross him, but he's heard plenty of stories about him and the Detrovite race, so he has a pretty good idea what he's talking about) raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"Well?"

Kevin shrugged. It was probably just the last of the energy-induced insanity talking, but he just didn't care at this point. Kwarrel wasn't here to tell him no, and he was looking for a fight. "Try to take my food and find out." Because the knock-off had yet to go after_ his_ food, and this was the perfect chance to call him out for it.

Quince tried to stand up in alarm, then, realizing that could be taken as a sign of challenge, he stopped halfway. "_Kevin_, don't be an idiot."

The Detrovite hesitated. "Kevin? As in Kwarrel's Kevin?"

"Kwarrel's dead." He reminded him tersely. Quince had never called him by his name before, never had, never would. It was knocking him for a mild loop. "Are we gonna fight or not?"

The knock-off gave him a deadpan look. "I don't eat what you eat."

Then he walked away without a second glance.

And, to think, things would've gone so much better if Kwarrel had been around. There wouldn't have been a problem in the first place. Kevin turned to glare at the smug guard watching him from afar, the absorbed power sinking into the ground.

Morgg, who was probably waiting for the right chance to nail him, the jerk, smirked back.

* * *

Kevin spent most of his time in the Null Void out of the prison. He knew that. He just doesn't remember it.

Sometimes he can clearly remember breaking out of prison and escaping into whatever hole in the wall he hid in that particular week. Other days...

Well, other days he woke up on the front step of the prison covered in trace amounts of explosive chemicals with no clue when he left or how he got back. He's even woken up in the isolation cell a few times, nearly dead after not eating for three or four days beforehand.

Some days his memories of the Null Void are perfectly 20-20. Other days he can hardly remember a thing after his first break out, it's so blurry. It should probably bother him, but it doesn't. Not really. It was probably just one of the many after-effects of the energy-induced insanity haze he went through back before Kwarrel.

Besides, why would he _want_ to know? It's the Null Void, for pete's sake. The less he knew and remembered, the better.

* * *

Kevin knew, scientifically speaking, that he was going to grow. Even still, he didn't quite expect to grow like a _weed_ as the years stretched on, going from his fellow prisoner's ankles and knees to their waists and higher. Like, seriously. With the crud they'd been feeding him, he'd always figured he'd be lucky to grow much taller than the average dwarf. He'd been expecting to be around Argit's final size, not a stinking oak tree.

Wait, was it the oak trees or the pine trees that got really tall? Both? None of the above? Were they even different trees?

...Man, he really needed to get out of this place. And soon.

Quince, in a flash of brilliance, had managed to ask a guy who knew a guy who knew a good ten other guys who'd managed to have some bigger clothes smuggled aboard the next supply ship going in, which he'd then hid until the next time he got caught.

They found him and Argit out cold next to the rubble of a recently destroyed building. He can't even remember escaping the facility again, or meeting up with Argit, or blowing anything sky-high. Argit's memory is just as spotty as his, if not more so, so he doesn't bother to ask.

Quince handed him the clothes- a nice dark shirt, jeans and boxers, and a pair of new shoes. Not the best recon gear, but it was better then going around in his birthday suit- with a shrug. "It's a long story, kid. The whole block got involved."

"Really?" He pulled on and buttoned his pants over his boxers. It took him a second to remember how to tie his shoes- how many years has it been since he'd had shoes with the laces still intact?-, but he managed to figure it out. "Why?"

"Well, they thought it'd do ya' some good. You're getting out of here soon, kid. You need to be prepared."

"I'm more than prepared. I'm dying to get out of this place." He stonily pulled on the shirt. "And that doesn't answer my question. _You_ care, but they don't."

"Eh, what can I say? We're a buncha hardened criminals." He shrugged again. "I think it was mostly to tick Morgg off."

His hands stalled on the collar of his shirt. "Morgg?"

"Yeah. He hates ya', kid."

"That's nothing outta the ordinary. Lots of people hate me."

"Yeah, but Morgg is one of the few aliens everybody hates _back_. Keepin' you alive and healthy is tickin' him off, so the others have been making sure to keep ya' alive and healthy. That's how it works here."

"Oh." He smoothed out the wrinkles in his new shirt. "That sounds... reasonable, I guess."

A hand placed itself on his shoulder. "And it could have somethin' to do with the fact you were Kwarrel's favorite."

Kevin's shoulders tensed. "Oh."

"We all miss 'em, kid."

He jerked away with a grunt. "Yeah, well, pitying me isn't gonna bring him back."

Quince shook his head. "We all know that, kid, and nobody's pityin' ya'. We're just mournin' 'em in our own way."

"By helping me?"

He shrugged. "He loved ya', kid. You know that." He put his hand on his shoulder once again. "And don't ya' forget it, ya' hear?"

"I hear you, Quince. I hear you."

* * *

Kevin can't remember how he met Argit, exactly, but he's pretty sure there was something illegal involved, if only for the principle.

The first time they were together that he could remember clearly was when they were thrown into isolation together (which normally didn't happen, but they were both pretty puny, all things considered, so they got to share an isolation cell rather than waste two of them). They'd known each other long before then, of course, but everything else before was a blur.

Argit's memory wasn't any better, or so he said, but he couldn't really be trusted anyway. Argit was a friend, not an ally. That was how they worked- they backstabbed each other every chance they got then laughed about it later.

Not very healthy, true, but he was a recovering psychopath. He didn't exactly scream healthy as it is.

"Man, I am_ so_ hungry." Argit moaned, stretching.

"You wanna go back to the prison?"

He scoffed. "Please. I'd starve before I'd go back to that place willingly."

"Yeah, I hear you, man."

"I gotta say, you certainly seem to have a reputation back there. That one guard seems to really have it in for you."

"Who, Morgg?" He hadn't told anyone besides Quince what had happened, but he was pretty sure Argit had his suspicions anyway.

"I guess so. I didn't learn his name."

"It's Morgg. We got history."

Argit paused at his tone of voice. "Geez. I wouldn't wanna be that guy."

"Eh. It's nothin' you haven't heard before. I hate him, he hates me, I want him dead, the feelings mutual, etc."

"Yeah, but I know you, Kev. You really want him dead, you'll get 'em. That's how you operate."

That was the closest to a compliment he'd ever received from the little rat, and even then it was more towards his old tendencies than his new ones, but beggars can't really be picky (or something like that). "Hey, can I tell you a secret?"

"Depends. Is it something that could get me killed if I knew about it?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't trust you with something like that." Argit is a pal, not an ally. You don't tell a pal a life-or-death secret. That's, like, survival one-o-one.

"Why, Kevin, I'm hurt. But, seriously, if it's that important, keep me out of the loop, okay?"

"Don't worry. The thought never crossed my mind."

"Alright then."

"My pop." He paused. "My real one, not the stepdad I told ya' about. I never got to meet 'em or nothin', but my mom always said he was a Plumber, and I believe her."

Argit was silent for a long moment. "Well, well, well. The great Kevin Levin, crazed Osmosian of Earth, descended from Plumbers? My world has been tilted on its axis. Nothing will ever be the same again."

"Dude, shut up." He grit his teeth. It was moments like this that reminded him why he and Argit never got along for long periods of time. They were too much alike, and just different enough, for comfort.

"Hey, I'm being serious here. You're the last guy I'd ever expect to be related to a Plumber. You know, 'cause of the whole insanity thing."

"It's an Osmosian thing." He grunted. No need to bore him with details. "I'm getting better."

"I know. You were a lot more messed up when I first met you than now. Seriously, dude."

"Whatever." That was a good sign, he hoped. "You know, when I was a kid, I actually wanted to... I dunno, _be_ a Plumber, I guess."

A minute passed, then two. Argit broke down in a fit of laughter, grabbing his shoulder for support so he wouldn't fall over.

"You, a Plumber? Man, talk about childhood innocence."

"I'm not sure if I should laugh with you or deck you for making fun of my childhood dreams." He said honestly.

"Oh, come'on, Kev. Don't be like that. I just can't help but find the irony there hilarious, that's all. I thought all you Osmosians were sneaks and liars."

There came the difficult part. Kevin had never stepped foot on his ancestral planet. Didn't plan on it, either. This way, he could technically hail from anyone and anywhere with no nasty surprises. He could be a long-lost descendant of the local royalty for all anyone knew, and no one could really say for sure or for false. (Of course, that would require Osmosis Five being a real planet in a real solar system, but he didn't know that back then, okay?)

"I dunno. That'd kinda be like sayin' everyone from where you're from is a coward and crook." And, from everything he'd heard, his father was the coolest guy to have ever served the Plumbers. Just sayin'.

Argit paused in his laughter to glare at him. "While I'm not particularly fond of the comparison, it's not wrong. We _are_ all cowards and crooks." He proclaimed, setting a paw-like appendage on his shoulder. "Look, people should only do what they're really good at, you know? And you're really good with tech."

"I'm only good with tech because I studied it a lot back in my Plumber wanna-be days." Which had yet to pass, honestly, but whatever. Argit didn't need to know that. "What about you? Is being a crook and a sneak all you'll ever be good at?"

He shrugged. "Probably. Hey, don't start over-thinking things, okay? You're exactly where you should be."

"In the Null Void?"

"_No_. Nobody 'belongs' in the Null Void, stupid. I _meant_ in the Underground. This is where we thrive, this is where we survive." He said sagely.

Kevin raised an eyebrow. "Quotin' poetry on me now, Argit?"

"Nah. Came up with it on my own. Pretty sweet, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Argit tugged him along the path. "Come'on. Let's find ourselves a place to crash for the night,_ then_ catch ourselves some food. It's gettin' cold out."

"Sounds like a plan, 'pal.'"

Kevin seriously hated this place.

* * *

He's not entirely sure how he did it, but Quince managed to get to the top of the isolation cell and peer through the slit down at him. "You in here, kid?"

"Yeah, unfortunately." He shifted his legs, arms cradling his head above the floor. "Hows it goin'?"

"Better than it is for you, it seems. Ain't your time up?"

"Technically. I shoulda been outta here a couple of weeks ago, but they grabbed me and put in this before I could go aboard the supply ship."

"Morgg's threatening you." He said grimly.

"I suspected as much. You'd think he'd realize I'm gonna keep my mouth shut, but whatever."

"They feedin' you in there?"

"Sorta. Depends on their mood."

"Like that's anything new." Quince paused. "Hey, kid?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful out there. I don't want ya' ending up back in the Null Void."

"Not plannin' on it. Although I am planning on giving Morgg a taste of his own medicine."

"Kid..."

"Hey, relax. I'm just planning on making enough money to buy this place right out from under Morgg's metaphorical nose."

"Kid, you can't make the Null Void a better place. It's too far gone to be anything it isn't already. Don't even bother. Save your credits for one of those Earth school-things."

"Who said anything about making it better? I'm just gonna turn Morgg out on his rear. Maybe even assign some newer, better, guards. Spice things up a little."

"I don't think it'll work out, kid. Turns out Morgg is next in line to be warden."

Kevin sat up in surprise. "You're kidding."

Quince shook his head. "Wish I was. My tip's pretty reliable."

Kevin's heart sank. He brought his knees to his chest. "So... that's it? Morgg just gets to walk free with his nose in the air? He isn't gonna pay for what he's done?"

"Indeed." A third voice sounded. Kevin bolted upright.

"Quince?"

"Don't worry about him. Your comrade isn't in any trouble, I promise. Not this time, at least."

He balled his fists. "I swear, you even_ think_ about hurtin' him, I'll-"

"Why would I? I wouldn't want any blood on my hands."

"It's a little late for that." He muttered under his breath before he could stop himself.

"_About_ that." He didn't have to see Morgg to picture the smirk on his face. "Your friend here has a lot of time left in the Null Void, you know. You might not even be alive when he gets out."

"Yeah, so?" Well, he'd been planning on trying to sneak him out on the supply ship and taking him to earth with him, but it certainly wasn't going to happen now.

"That's plenty of time to make his life miserable, is all I'm saying."

"Leave Quince out of this." If freedom wasn't just over the horizon, Kevin would've broken free and taken Morgg down without a second thought, consequences be darned. But Kwarrel wouldn't like it if he ruined his only chance over him.

"Why, I don't want him 'in' this in the first place. However, should news of your old 'friend' and our special _exercise_ activities reach anyone else's audio receptors... Well, I'd have no choice."

"You don't have to threaten me. I'm a hardened criminal, remember?"

"Of course I do. You're in _my_ prison, remember?" A pause. "Although, you do have a point. No one would believe you."

Kevin grit his teeth. "Quince?"

"I'm still here, kid."

"Be safe, alright?"

Quince nodded on the other side of the cell. "'Course."

Kevin nodded in return. "Alright, Morgg. You got yourself a deal."

"Good." Morgg shoved Quince's shoulder with his gun. "Get moving. It's past curfew."

Quince didn't argue. "Be safe, kid. I better not see you around here anytime soon."

"I hear you. Same."

The footsteps faded away. Kevin slowly sunk to the metal floor with a frustrated snarl.

Alone again. All things considered, in a place as disgusting as the Null Void, and with aliens as horrible as Morgg in every twist and turn, that was the best way to be.

**Author's Note: Have any of you ever tried to keep track of four series of canon after not watching the series for a long time? It's not pretty.**

**I'm not sure if it fits into Omniverse canon or not, but I tried to fit in the Rooters memory mess-up. I can't help but headcanon that they would leave him and Argit (or others) in the middle of nowhere for a few days, watching over them from afar, to give them a few real memories to anchor the fake ones too. I also headcanon that Kevin was in and out of the prison between fake memories.**

**I was trying to give it the feeling that, over time, Kevin's hatred began to grow and he became more closed off and turned into the the Kevin we see in the show, but it ended up turning into this.**

**If you can't tell, The first parts (Kevin's first night in isolation and the knock-off) are before he's hit puberty. The rest are him going through puberty (the clothing bit), then serving the last of his time (the last parts). The bit with Argit's kinda in-between, I guess.**

**No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!**


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